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"This is probably a mistake, but..."

I've said that to myself a million times.

There are a lot of good reasons why I should stay away from Holly. I don't particularly like her, for one thing, so if I do end up nailing her, I'm not calling her again, and if she has a meltdown, Nancy is going to hear about it, and so is Greg. And therefore, so will I. And if that does happen, there will certainly be another round of preaching from the family about my indiscretions, tonight's apologies notwithstanding.

But I am getting ahead of myself. She definitely likes me; I can see that. But I have no idea whether she'd even be willing to fool around. She could be a virgin, for all I know. Or have a boyfriend. I'll cross Holly's bridge when I come to it. IF I come to it.

Bill gets up from the couch and walks to the bar at the back of the room. He comes back a minute later with beers, shot glasses, and a bottle of Captain Morgan's. "Who's up for quarters?" He says, placing everything down on the coffee table.

"QUARTERS?" Jenny says, rolling her eyes. "Isn't that a high school game?"

"Football is a high school game, too, but adults play, don't they?" I say.

"Adults play BETTER," Bill says. That quiets Jenny right down.

"Well, I'm not playing," Jenny says. "But I will take a Cider Jack."

"'Fridge is right through there," I say, pointing to the kitchen. She gets up and gets her drink.

I am deadly at quarters. I can bounce a quarter into a shot glass 30 or 40 times in a row, easily. Usually, they end up limiting me to 20 in a row; otherwise, no one else would get a turn.

We all sit down on the floor. Chris goes first. He bounces the quarter off the coffee table and into the glass. "I pick Jenny!" he says.

Jenny is still sitting on the couch. She smirks at him. "I'm not playing, dummy!" she says.

"Can I play," Holly says.

"I'm gonna need to see some ID, honey," Chris says, laughing. He hands her a beer.

"You can play, but you have to drink apple juice," I say. We all laugh.

My turn. I bounce the quarter into the glass. "Chris," I say. He drinks a shot of Captain Morgans.

I bounce it in again. "Bill." He pounds a shot.

Three in a row. "Chris." He drinks.

Four. "Bill."

Five. "Chris."

"HEY! You keep skipping me!" Holly says.

"I'll get you next time," I say.

Chris fills his glass. Holly grabs it and gulps it down in one shot without even flinching.

We all stare at her. "Holy crap!" Chris says.

"You guys are wimps," she says. "You're just afraid I'm a better drinker than you."

I miss on the sixth try, and hand the glass to Holly.

She bounces the quarter into the glass. "Steeee-vie," she says, tauntingly. I drink.

She bounces it in again. "DAMN this girl's good," says Chris. "Steeeee-vie." I drink again.

Three in a row. "Steve!" she says. I pound a third shot. This girl better miss soon or I'm gonna pass out.

"Uh-oh, tryin' to get him drunk!" Bill says.

She misses, and passes the glass to Bill.

I look down. Her hand is on my knee, but she's not looking at me. Slick!

We play for another half hour. Bill is in bad shape, and looks like he is about to puke. Chris looks tired, but otherwise seems ok. Same for me.

I look over at Holly. She is wide awake and smiling. She seems completely sober. She's mostly been drinking beer since that first shot, and I don't think she's finished a whole one, yet.

Oh yeah, and her hand is basically in my crotch.

Any doubt I may have had about Holly wanting to fool around is gone. She's been flirting with me all night, and now she's basically touching my dick. Some younger girls are big talkers, and when you get them alone, they back off. But those girls don't usually try to get me drunk, or put their hands in my lap. I am definitely thinking she's fuck-ready.

I won't lie to you: Getting dumped by Steph was a bruise to my ego. I feel bad about it. It would feel really good to bounce back and fuck someone else a few hours after getting kicked to the curb. I've never done that before. It would give me a great sense of accomplishment.

I know Holly is a lot younger. But she knows what she wants, and so do I. If she is going to act like a skanky little whore, then I might just have to fuck her like one.

Fifteen more minutes pass. The game is slowing way down. Chris is practically falling asleep at the table.

Janet walks into the room. "Chris, are you ok to drive?"

"NO!" We all say in unison.

"OK, I'm driving then," she says. Chris staggers to the door, slurring his goodbyes.

I bounce the quarter into the glass. "Bill!" I say.

He drinks a shot, and his eyes get wide. He covers his mouth, running to the bathroom. We hear him puking up his chicken chow mein.

I look over at Jenny. She is laughing. "You guys are so funny," she says.

"I like him. He's cool," I say.

"Thanks. I like him too," she says. It's the first time Jenny has looked directly at me all night.

"Where did you meet him?" I ask.

"He's an intern at the hospital," she says.

This is just perfect. I am talking to a pretty girl while another girl has her hand on my pecker. Welcome to the big leagues, Holly.

"I have a headache. I need some aspirin," Holly whispers in my ear.

Uh-huh. I'll give you some aspirin, honey. Whoever said that it's bad for a girl to have a headache?

"Come on," I say, leading her downstairs.

Dad's got a spare bathroom on the bottom floor of the house. I used to use it a lot when I was a kid. I liked that it was so isolated from everyone else. Less chance of getting caught whacking off, you know.

We walk in. I turn to face her. She is staring up at me, saucer-eyed. "You're bad, you know that?" I say.

"How am I bad?" She smiles.

"You basically had your hand on my dick in front of everyone," I smile.

"Mm-hmm. And you liked it too, didn't you?"

I am fully erect. My cock is straining against my jeans. It occurs to me that I have not had sex in almost a week.

I put my fingers under the waistline of her low-rise jeans and pull her to me. "Yeah. I liked it." I kiss her. Her lips are incredible, thick and wet and soft.

She kisses back, harder. She steps on my feet with hers. I like that. Her arms are wrapped tightly around my neck as we make out.

She is grinding her hips against mine. She's breathing heavily; I can hear it.

I pull away from her and undress. She does the same. I have whacked off many times in this very bathroom, fantasizing about fucking some hottie right here, right in this spot. Who says dreams don't come true?

Her boobs are smaller than I thought. She must wear a push-up. But they are firm and tight, almost hard, as I squeeze them. It looks like she doesn't shave, but her bush is small and subtle, with not too much hair at all, like a woman out of a renaissance-era painting of Adam and Eve (without the obesity, of course).

She hops up on the sink and opens her legs to me. This girl ain't no fucking virgin, that's for sure.

I fumble with my condom, and as I roll it on, she says, "It's ok. I'm on the pill."

"Pill's not perfect," I say. It also doesn't prevent STD's, but this doesn't seem like the best time to bring up the clap.

She stares down at my cock. "You are SO big," she says.

What is it with all these girls telling me I am big lately? Maybe because I just shaved?

I enter her easily. She folds her legs behind my back, moaning. "Ohhh, you are soooo hot," she says. "I want you so bad."

I don't answer. I don't usually talk much during sex, except to ask her if she wants a big load in her face.

Her body is thin and tight, without an ounce of fat or flab anywhere. I love how she is bent slightly over at the waist, and there is not one roll in her stomach.

I look at myself briefly in the mirror behind the sink as I fuck her. I look like I am high. I am, kind of.

I pull out of her. "C'mere," I say, leading her to the far wall of the bathroom. I push her gently into the wall, face first, and come up behind her. She sees what I am doing, and spreads her legs for me. I don't think I've ever done it this way! At least not out of the shower, anyway.

I am able to enter her, but I have to squat way down to do it. If only she had a bench or a stool to stand on...

"Stand on this," I say, tapping the baseboard heat register with my foot.

"Won't that break?" she says.

"Hold onto this," I say, motioning toward a ledge halfway up the wall. She does.

I come up behind her again. I slide into her PERFECTLY this time. I watch her tight, round ass as she pushes it back and forth against me, moaning softly. I look at her. She is squeezing her nipples.

I put my hands on the ledge next to hers and wail away at her, our naked flesh smacking loudly together. I look down and watch my cock slip in and out of her. I can smell her sweat, her wetness, her arousal.

I reach around and grab her tits, tracing lazy circles around her nipples. "Mmmm," she says. "Fuck me, Steve," she says, grinding her hips against mine, harder.

"Ohhhh, right there, RIGHT THERE," she says, slowing down. "SLOW!" She reaches her right hand down to her pussy, and I can feel her rubbing furiously.

The orgasm overwhelms me. I explode inside her. I'm glad I am jimmied up, because cleaning up cum after midnight is not my idea of fun.

She stays pinned to the wall, panting. Finally, she steps down from the heat register, turns around, and hugs me for a long time.

I look down. Her toenails are painted purple. PURPLE?

How old IS this girl, anyway?